


Necropolis

by icedchaigay



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Introspection, Post-Old Soldiers Comic, Post-Recall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 00:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11324553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedchaigay/pseuds/icedchaigay
Summary: Old soldiers never die; they just fade away.





	Necropolis

In all the time she’s spent here over the years, Ana Amari had never seen the sky so beautiful. What was a few minutes ago a blaze of reds and yellows is now a uniform, dull expanse of blue, broken up only by the flicker of stars. Miles away, the skyline of Giza is silhouetted against the night, a few lights still glowing this late. It’s a winding path of streets and rooftops; from out here, it looks so easy to get lost in. She knows all too well how small it can feel from the ground, though. Like the streets are two feet wide, like the people roaming them are congesting the air, making it impossible to breathe.

“I got nothing. As if that’s a surprise anymore.” He pulls off his headset, taking a deep breath and letting his head fall forward. He tugs the gloves off of his hands, letting the tired skin underneath them breathe. Jack looks over at her, his face obscured by the visor but the wrinkles on his forehead nonetheless making his expression clear.

She backs off from the scope of her rifle, setting it down beside her and looking back. “No need to be modest.”

“I’m tired, Ana.” His fingers are shaking in his lap. These days, he’s finding it harder and harder to control them. It’s like his brain’s forgotten how to communicate to all the muscles below the surface. Or maybe they’re just refusing to listen, disgusted by the things they’ve done.  _“I’m so tired.”_

“You haven’t slept well in weeks.” She turns toward him. “I know that's not what you meant, but... at this rate, you’re going to kill yourself before we find him.”

Jack brings his hands up behind his head, presses the release, and pulls the visor off. His vision is dark and hazy without it, practically useless when it’s this late. He can only just make out faint shape of his hands, less than a foot in front of him.

“We’re already dead, remember?”

She scoffs, pulling the rifle over her shoulder and standing. “C’mon.”

Jack lifts his hand, waiting for her to take it as he stands up. He follows her back inside, using the orange glow of the fire as a guide. She leads him over to his corner of the room, letting go once he finds the edge of the makeshift bed and lowers himself.

“Thanks.”

Ana walks back out towards the waning fire. “Don’t mention it.” She kneels down and hangs the kettle over the flame. “Tomorrow, we can rest in. You need it desperately, Jack.”

"I know, but..." He groans, running a hand across his chin. “We can’t stop looking.”

_I can't stop looking._

“For a day, we can.” She glances back at him.

Jack knows there's no point in fighting her on this, especially since she’s right.

Ana pulls the kettle back off and pours steaming tea into two worn, metal cups. She stands and walks back over to Jack’s bed, sitting down beside him and handing one of them over. Jack takes it and swallows half of it at once, gritting his teeth as it burns down his throat.

“We’re going to find him, Jack.” Her hand stops halfway and lowers the cup onto her lap. “One way or another.”

Jack pulls himself to a sitting position and leans against the wall, able to make out her silhouette against the fire. “He’s all I’ve been able to think about since then. It makes me dizzy sometimes.”

“It's not like I expected either of you to be alive. Still not used to seeing a ghost walking around.” She smiles at him halfheartedly, as if he could see it.

“What could've happened to him?” Jack’s voice is rough. He finishes his cup and sets it down on the stone floor.

“I don’t know.” She looks down. “It couldn't have been his choice. Something…was  _done_ to him.”

Jack nods, head falling back against stone. He’s felt the possibilities tear through his gut a million times, but it doesn’t matter. Feeling _anything_  has to count for something. He feels the sting of tears on the tender skin beneath his eyes.

“It’s late.”

“You’re right.” He bites his lip. There's no gain to be had for dragging the conversation further.

“Jack, I know how you feel about them, but I still think--”

“Yeah.” He cuts her off, sniffling. The soldier tries to take deep breaths, tries to calm himself, but it’s pointless. The only small comfort comes when Ana puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll do it.”

She stands up and walks to her corner of the atrium, stopping at her workbench. Her fingers reach into the steel case full of small, blue darts, pulling one out. When she returns, Jack’s shirt is off. She feels that familiar prickling down her neck when she sees him, a patchwork of marks and long-since-scarred wounds across his back.

“Take it when you’re ready.” She holds it out, hand steady as his reaches out and fumbles before taking it. “It should last you through the night.”

“Thanks.” He closes his fist around the dart, chest trembling as he exhales.

Something’s been off about the soldier since he found out that Gabe - and Ana, by extension - were alive after so long in solitude. No matter what she says, he’s never quite there. His mind is occupied constantly, running through tactics and outcomes. She wants to break him from it, shake him back to reality and make him realize that this isn’t just another mission, that finding Gabriel can’t be planned out on a neat, bullet-point list of objectives. She knows part of it is just habit; he led Overwatch for _decades_. Being a Commander is what he knows, it’s his self-affirmed default. Now, though, it’s holding him back.

He’s broken.

They all are.

The best anyone in their position can do is to fight off those demons. Keep them at bay long enough to realize the world around them is still standing, that they aren’t as alone as they think. Ana isn’t quite sure what she saw that day, be it man or monster. But she knows whatever it was, it was Gabriel. And that’s good enough of a reason to keep searching.

If she’d run into anyone else, Ana would’ve left them behind that day. A squabble among thieves isn't worth the energy. But to learn that the two of them were alive, she couldn't let them go again. She’d left the thought of family back in Zurich, figuring she was better off staying dead. Maybe, even after all this time, it’s not so clear-cut.

Her eyes drift upwards. Jack repositions the dart in his unsteady hand and presses it into his arm, letting his head fall back as the tube clatters onto the floor.

 _“Goodnight, Jack.”_ She stands, pulling the blanket over him. The fire’s already dying down, so she leaves it. Ana settles down beside her belongings; her rifle, her kit, and a framed picture sitting on the ground.

It aches to look at the photo, but it's not like that's ever stopped her before. Three smiling faces, none of which knew what would come. None of them knew that the world would hate them. She blinks away the tears staining her vision. Ana would give anything to be back in that photo once again, to feel like she could conquer the world.

To be so naive as to think that it could last.

Beside the photo is a small platter. She waves a hand over it, activating the holovid. It gives off a soft blue glow, projecting a long-haired, smiling Fareeha, long before she had dreams of becoming a soldier, just like the ones who raised her.

Ana once told herself that staying dead was in her daughter's best interest, that one less connection to Overwatch is the best gift she could give her. One less government file marked 'unsolved,' one less reason to dig up the past.

Now, she isn’t so sure.

This is her chance. It’s _their_ chance. If they can locate Gabriel and bring him home, find out what happened that day, maybe in some form they can be a family again. Or something close enough. Talon isn't any more infallible than a half-dozen Omnium, but they can't do it without him. Especially not Jack.

She waves the hologram back off, eyelids heavy with fatigue as she closes them. Ana knows it’s foolish to waste time on thoughts like these. Dreams are dangerous when you have nothing left to wake up to. But day after day, she’s finding more to fight for.

And even a dead woman can dream.

**Author's Note:**

> I really appreciate the (albeit tiny) bits of story we got in the new arena maps, but Necropolis especially is really awesome. We finally get to see what Jack and Ana are up to after the Old Soldiers comic, so this is my take on how a night of scouting might end up.
> 
> Special thanks to Astrid and Salem for agreeing to beta.
> 
> I always love feedback/praise/hate/etc!
> 
> -
> 
> if you like my work and want to toss me some change/see what i'm into, check out my tumblr: [deadpixelz](http://deadpixelz.tumblr.com)


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